Anger : a story for boys

ANGER.— A STORY FOR BOYS.

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Uncle, please tell us a story ?" The old

ANGER. 3

man thus addressed, started as if he had
been awakened from a dream, and, look-
ing round at the young faces which were
gazing eagerly at him, he said pleasantly,
" And what shall the story be about ?"
" Oh, about something that happened to
you when you were a boy, uncle — a real,
true story." " I think that kind is always
the nicest," said a sweet, gentle-looking
little girl. An expression of sorrow passed
over the old man's face; then, after
a pause, he said : " Well, children, I will
tell you something that happened to me in
my youth ; it was that which brought
these gray hairs before their time, and
robbed me of the joy of youth for ever.

" I once had a sister. She was a sweet,
loving child ; timid and retiring, and of a
most yielding disposition, except where
right and wrong were concerned, and then
her firmness was remarkable in one so
young. I Wed her better than anything
in the world, though I was exactly her
opposite in all respects. Headstrong and
impetuous, irritable and passionate, while
my dear mother lived it was all my deep

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4 ANGER.

love for her could do to keep me even in
partial restraint ; but about three years
before, she had died, leaving Lucy, myself,
and an infant brother, under the care of
an uncle. This uncle, though I believe a
good man, and sincerely desirous of doing
his duty towards us, had yet but little
influence over me, for I was always more
easily influenced by love than by harsh-
ness.

" Like most boys, I was fond of fishing,
and I had a fine opportunity for enjoying
this pastime. At the foot of my uncle's
garden was a very large pond, plentifully
stocked with fish ; here I was permitted
to amuse myself at liberty, with but one
restriction. There was a certain part of
the pond where Lucy and I had been
forbidden to go ; my uncle had marked it
by putting a few stakes at each end of the
place. This idea vexed me extremely, for
boys about twelve years old do not like to
have it supposed that they cannot take
care of themselves.

" Lucy was generally my companion
while fishing: not that she liked it, for

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she sometimes betrayed an unwillingness
to accompany me, which, compared with
her delight in being with me on every
other occasion, and her desire to please
me, might have shown me, had I chosen
to see it, how much she disliked it.

" One afternoon, I took my rod, and
called to Lucy to put on her bonnet, and
come. I think she was not very well

that day, for she hesitated more than
usual, and at last said timidly, ' Would

ANGER.

you mind very much, Arthur, if I didn't
go with you to-day?' I looked at her
surprised. ' Not mind,' I interrupted,
* why, of course you know I want your
help, Lucy ; but if you choose to be ill-
natured about it, I don't care ; you may
stay at home.' And I turned abruptly
away, and walked off, pretty sure, how-
ever, that Lucy would not be far behind
me. I was right. A minute after, I
heard the patter of little feet upon the
garden walk, and she was by my side.

" We walked on in silence, and when we
arrived at the pond, I baited my hook, and
threw it into the water. But it was a
bad day for fishing ; and after waiting a
long time, I grew tired and impatient. I
felt cross and irritable ; angry with my-
self — angry too with Lucy : for there is
nothing irritates one more against a per-
son, than a sense of having injured them.

" Just about the middle of the spot we
had been forbidden, and standing a little
way out in the water, was a large tree
whose spreading branches cast a deep
shadow all around it. I had often looked

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at this place with longing — it was so
admirably adapted for fishing ; but had
never yet seriously thought of disobeying
my uncle's express commands. Now,
however, I was in no mood to withstand
temptation. I paused but one moment
after the idea presented itself — the next I
was within the boundary stakes. Without
stopping to think, I threw the line, and
the hook catching on one of the trees, the
rod was jerked out of my hands, and to
my horror I saw it hanging just out of my
reach. I looked at it for a moment in
consternation, then an idea struck me.
Hastily feeling in my pockets, I pulled
out a ball of twine ; then picking up a
stone which lay at my feet, I tied it to the
end of the cord.

" Seeing I would need some help in my
endeavours to get at the rod, 1 glanced
round for Lucy. She was standing just
outside the stakes, gazing at me with a
look of surprise and terror which I shall
never forget. ' Lucy/ I called out, * I
want you to help me ; come quick V She
did not move, and I called again, impa-

8 ANGER.

tient : « Be quick, Lucy ; 1 can't waif
*ou know I can't g0 there, Arthur.'
Her reply sounded so calm that it irritated
me more than ever. • But you must
come, Lucy. You shall help me,' I ex-
claimed violently— « I'll make you do - ± ,
bhe did not stir. 'Will you come?' I
added passionately. ' No, Arthur.' Oh
1 knew not what I did ; but lifting the
hand that still held the stone, with all my
force I hurled it at her. I cannot tell
what followed. I remember seeing her
tall— a little coffin in a darkened room
kissing clay-cold lips that had never'
never spoken one harsh word, and a new-
made grave. ' No tears for her :' her eyes
had seen the King in his beauty ; her feet
have trod the golden streets of Heaven—
but for me— never, shall I forget that
awful scene."

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